Where Did I Go Wrong?
by MasterMeister999
Summary: Takes place right after "Duchess of Wails." What if, after all the torment and suffering that he puts up with, Mac had the guts to admit that he has a serious problem? Following a mental breakdown after Terrence used him, he lets out all of his pent up aggression and feelings, and tells the truth to Frankie. Inspired by a number of meltdowns that I have personally had in my life.
It was over.

The battle for friendship.

And he had lost.

The red-shirted, brown haired little boy laid helplessly defeated on the ground next to both his aptly named sidekick Bloo and their haughty walking Picasso painting Duchess, all covered in apple sauce. Said walking painting was meant to be returned to the orphanage for imaginary friends so that the brown haired 8-year-old Mac would not be forced to move out of his home and sent away from where he could be close to his best friend. Little did he know that all of this was just according to his hateful older brother Terrance's machinations. He despised seeing the two together and wished for nothing more than to see his little brother in pain, lord knows why.

Telling this very story hurts because there is so much that could have been easily avoided. What made Mac so different from other children was that he was much more creative, intelligent, and deductive than most children. This young boy was not to be underestimated, at least that is how it was supposed to be. In his panic over being separated from his new friends forever, he was foolishly willing to believe anything.

Mac and Bloo both stood up with expressions of utter sadness on their faces. They wiped the apple sauce off of themselves and were ready to give their final goodbyes. Mac sniffed and then let out a whimper followed by a single tear as he and his best friend embraced for what would probably be the very last time.

"I guess this is it…," said Bloo.

"Yeah…," replied Mac. "Well, it's been nice knowing you guys," he waved farewell to Frankie and the rest of the good ideas that were never forgotten.

"Wait, what's going on," Wilt questioned.

"Oh, you didn't know? We're moving out…," Mac sniffed again.

All of his new friends let out a gasp.

"Whaddya mean," Frankie demanded to know.

"My mom didn't like having Duchess around so much that she opted to move to Singapore…" Mac explained.

Everybody was completely dumbfounded.

Singapore, he knew where that located, right?

"Mac, Singapore is all the way in Southeast Asia. What could your mom possibly be looking for there," Frankie asked incredulously.

"I… I don't know," it suddenly dawned on Mac that he had been played like a harp.

Everyone then turned their attention towards Terrence who knew that the spiteful jig was up.

Terrence quickly spoke as he attempted to make a run for it "Well, as they say in Wisconsin, sayonara!"

Frankie, however, immediately tackled him to the ground and shouted "Don't you freaking move!"

Terrence shouted back as he was practically being placed under arrest "Hey, get off me!"

Frankie then commanded to Eduardo, "Eduardo, go get some rope. We're tying this sucker up!"

A minute later, Terrance was tied up by both his hands and feet crying out to be let go, but the gang was having none of it. This time Terrence had gone too far, this was the final straw. It was apparent that the older brother detested both the little brother and his creation, but how could he stoop this low?

Frankie began to interrogate Terrance, "Alright, I wanna know what the hell is going on!"

The terrible Terrence feigned ignorance, "What's there to go on about?"

Frankie was furious, "What is your problem?! Big brothers are supposed to protect and love their little brothers, not treat them like crap!"

Terrence spat, "Puh-lease! I can do whatever I want to him! He's not as smart as he thinks he is!"

"Yes he is," a different voice rang out.

It was from none other than Madame Foster who had been given the details by Eduardo.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, we all should be ashamed of ourselves," Foster bluntly stated. "What kind of people are we if we are going to exclude one of our favorite guests just because of one creation? True, she is known for being high and mighty, but we have absolutely no right to have her kicked out on the streets to fend for herself. When I founded this foster home, I took up an oath that no good idea would be forgotten, I stand by it now more than ever, especially if it means protecting one who does not have the means to protect himself!"

Terrence would then say the most disrespectful thing that has ever come out of his mouth, "Shut up, you old bone bag! You're all freaks!"

This was enough to make Frankie and deck him square in the face. "The next time I see you over here at Foster's, I'll either have a gun ready or I'm calling the police!"

"You won't have to, darling, for as head of this household I declare that you are no longer welcome here," Madame Foster condemned Terrence.

How does it feel, Terrence? How does it feel having all that karma come back and bite you in the rear end? How does it feel to finally out in your place and knowing that you aren't going to get away with what you do anymore?

About a minute passed before Bloo came over to the group and said in a panic "Um, you guys might want to check up on Mac!"

"Is he okay," Frankie's asked with her voice filled with worry.

He spoke plainly, "No! He said he was thinking about killing himself!"

That could not be…

The group at the current moment was too busy trying to collect themselves over everything that they had done just to keep out one imaginary friend. Again, she was a high and mighty imaginary friend who tried to have one of their own put down for good, but if two were willing to forgive her for that crime long, long ago, then why could they not? Frankie looked around for Mac, who seemed to had disappeared in the midst of the ruckus. No he did not, actually, Frankie quickly found him slouched over on the doorstep.

He was crying his eyes out as the group could hear. Frankie rushed toward over to be with him, the little boy who had honestly grown to be the little brother she had never had. The boy was grabbing onto his hair and rocking back and forth bawling. This was the angriest and saddest that Frankie had ever seen Mac.

Frankie tried to reach out, "Mac, are you okay?"

Mac screamed out, "NO! NO, I'M NOT OKAY! I'M A FREAKING IDIOT!" He then began to punch himself in the face and bite himself.

Frankie exclaimed, "Mac, stop it, calm down!" She knew that Mac had suffered so much already what with the neglect of his mother. Now that his older brother had all but disowned him, was this the tipping point of his life? Mac's blood pressure was skyrocketing and he was hyperventilating. He surely was not serious about ending his own life after all he fought for, was he?

"I HATE MYSELF! I WANNA END IT ALL! I WANNA KILL TERRENCE AND THEN ME!"

Everybody gasped again.

They had never dealt with a situation like this before ever in their individual lives.

Eduardo and Coco both screamed.

Wilt followed suit, "That is not okay!"

"My word," Mr. Herriman could only express.

Frankie was immediately drawn into panic herself, "Mac! You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Like hell, I don't! Watch!"

Before he could do anything, however, his blood pressure was so high and he was breathing so hard that his legs buckled underneath him. In a second, he was passed out on the ground. Everyone continued to remain shocked, save Terrence who was about to comment in the most horrifying way possible.

"Cool," he cruelly said.

Everybody cried out in unison, "MAC!"

Darkness.

That's all he felt.

It's where he was.

It was his life.

It was in his heart.

Where did I go wrong, he thought.

Was my birth a mistake?

Would everything be better if I wasn't here?

Maybe it all happened after you left.

I give up, he thought.

I'm worthless.

It's my fault you're gone.

I deserve this.

"Don't give up."

Huh?

"Don't give up."

I have to give up.

It's for everyone's sake.

"You're wrong."

What do you mean?

"You're wrong. Don't give up."

Then he could see it.

A strange silhouette with manly features.

Could it be?

Could it really be him?

After so long?

They both reached out to each other.

"My son."

"Daddy."

"Please, don't give up," she whispered again through her tears.

Red-haired Frankie and the other imaginary friends were all watching over the 8-year-old who had briefly lost his mind. They had taken him inside Foster's and laid him down on the couch in the living room. Could anyone blame him for going berserk like that? After all that he had to deal with in his life, could one really blame the child for looking for a way out? The death, the bullying, the neglect, they were all too much to bare.

If only Mac had the support he needed. If only the brown haired child had someone to look out for him when the going got tough. But it seemed like nobody was there for him. Certainly not his mother who cared more about him becoming an adult instead of being child like he was supposed to, and most certainly not his older brother who did not care for his existence one bit.

Now that life was almost snuffed out, the burden of maturity was about to crush him. Frankie and the imaginary friends continued to shed their tears and pray that the little boy would soon come to. They prayed long and hard that their sins would be forgiven and this nightmare would end. Where did they go wrong, they all thought.

We're supposed to be his best friends, they all thought, and we betrayed him. He doesn't have any other friends except us. We don't know why, but he is just not good at socializing with other people. Could there be something wrong with him? One of them was about to hear him out, for as if by miracle, the little boy squinted.

Frankie gasped slightly.

Bloo quickly ran to his side and called out, "Mac, buddy?!"

The brown haired boy's eyes opened slowly until they reached their peak.

Frankie was relieved as was his imaginary pals, "Thank God!"

Mac weakly questioned, "Frankie… Bloo… Wha…What happened…?"

Frankie was surprised, "You don't remember?! You went mad!"

There was a pause.

It all came back to him.

Mac uttered "Oh, God…"

"Mac," Frankie directly chastised him, "We've never ever seen anything like that before! You scared everyone!"

"I remember now," Mac responded. "It's okay, I deserve everyone's anger…"

There was another awkward pause even though everyone was happy to see the young lad awake. Mac needed time to recollect himself, he was till shivering because his blood pressure was still rather high. He placed his hand on his chest and felt that his heartbeat was still somewhat rapid as well. This was completely unlike his sugar rush, this was something much more serious.

Mac finally then worked up the courage to ask Frankie something, "Frankie, can I talk to you…? Like, alone…?"

Frankie didn't know what to say at first, but she consented. She glanced at the imaginary friends, including Bloo, who were all still shaken up by the recent events that had transpired. They all nodded and then made their way out of the living room and back to their own bedrooms, either to try and forget about what happened or sort it out themselves. Bloo stood behind for a second looked at his creator, who also nodded, signaling for his friend to go on.

After Bloo had left, Mac and Frankie stared at each other for a while. Mac could see anger and worry in her eyes, but Frankie could see something completely different. She could only see baggy misery and depression. She could also see the young boy reduced to the status of a robot, unfeeling and showing little to no emotion. The contest lasted for about two or three minutes until Mac finally blinked, but it was not official.

"Frankie," Mac finally spoke, "I need to come clean…"

Frankie replied, "About what?"

"About my life..."

"Okay."

Mac was about to take one large step towards something, but he did not know what. There was never a time where he would tell his life story to other people. The opportunity was completely nonexistent as no one else seemed to care about his struggles. That opportunity had now come to him and he was not going to hold back. He did not know where to start because there was so much that he wanted, no, needed to say.

He didn't care it would get himself into trouble in the future. Something in his very soul irked him to come out to the one and only person he had a productive relationship with. This was the only chance he had to wipe the slate clean. The little boy needed time to collect all of his thoughts together. He needed time to set up his story about his family life as well as his…conditions.

"Frankie, I need to tell you something... Something very important," Mac sorrowfully spoke up.

"I'm all ears," Frankie listened intently.

Mac commenced, "I first want to say that I don't want to kill myself…"

"Thank the lord for that," Frankie answered.

"The second thing I want to say is that I no longer have a crush on you..."

"Thank the lord for that, too," she humorously answered again.

Mac sighed, the depression still alive in his voice.

Mac spoke up again, "Frankie I need to tell you about my family life, and a little something about me… I need to tell you the truth about myself first... Frankie, I have this thing called Asperger's Syndrome. I was diagnosed with it shortly after I was born..."

Frankie mouth laid open but she did not dare to speak. It seemed so clear now. His intelligence and creativity, but his struggles with socializing and making friends. Now add to it his tendency to have everything neatly organized and on schedule, as well as the times where he would be greatly aggravated.

Mac continued, "Nobody ever told you this, but there was this one time where Bloo idiotically decided to throw a party in the house… During the kerfuffle, I accidently drank some punch… The reason I'm not allowed to have anything with sugar in it is because I am also diabetic..."

Frankie's mouth continued to lay agape. While she did ponder about whose underwear that was when she came home that night, she was more concentrated on this revelation. This was news to her, her surrogate relative was both autistic _and_ diabetic. She tried to speak up but could not find the appropriate words as she wanted to let Mac finish his story.

"Now that that's out of the way, I need to tell you about my home life," Mac went on. "My mother is a workaholic and you know about Terrance… Where is he anyway…?"

Frankie shook her head in an attempt to straighten up, for she now the chance to speak to Mac, "He's in police custody."

"Oh," Mac replied to her.

"He thought you going insane was cool." Frankie stopped for a few seconds until she wanted to know, "Why does he act like that? Why does he want to make your life a living hell? What could you have possibly done to him that could make him hate you so much?"

Mac did not know the answer, "I don't know, but I think it all started after..." This was the big one. "I think it all started after…my father passed away..."

Stunned, that's all Frankie could be.

"My father died when I was just 3-years-old," Mac explained. "After that happened, everything just fell apart... Over the years, Mom pushed me to grow up according to her standards, and Terrance would torment me on a daily basis... I was never given the opening to live my life or to act my age, and my mother believed that I needed to grow up more than Terrence because I was the littlest... Honestly, pardon my language, I think that's bullshit…"

Frankie excused Mac for swearing and allowed him to elaborate more.

"My mother's an idiot… I don't want to be with her anymore... She projects all of her problems onto me and expects me to take more responsibility than I should for my age... When I first fell in love with you, do you remember when I said that I knew how to sort out her files...?"

Frankie nodded, what a day that was.

"I lied... I don't know the first damn thing about sorting bank files," Mac revealed. "It was all just to save face…"

Frankie was now in the onset of depression herself.

"I think my mother made me get rid of Bloo because she has some sort of prejudice against imaginary friends... If she realized that he was a living being with thoughts, feelings, and emotions, she wouldn't have treated him like he was another mouth to feed... Plus, she never would have forced us all to move out when Duchess moved in next door..."

Frankie interrupted for one quick second, "Mac, can I ask you something?"

"Sure..."

"Have you ever been to therapy?"

"No…"

Frankie could now feel a lump in her throat.

"Where did I go wrong, Frankie…? Where did my creator go wrong…?"

Frankie misunderstood, "Who, your mother?"

Mac shook his head, "No, God… Where did God go wrong when He made me…? I thought I had a gift, the gift of intelligence and creativity and all it's gotten me into is trouble…"

Frankie was no therapist, but she did have something in common with the lad. She was just waiting for the right time to tell her own truth. She was waiting for the right to tell Mac how much he meant to her, and that time was now.

"Mac," Frankie had the chance to speak after all of that, "You need to be strong for everyone here in this house."

Mac asked sarcastically "Really…?"

"Yes," she exclaimed. "Mac, I don't know what the right course of action to take is with this kind of problem. But all I know is that you have people, imaginary or otherwise, who love you and appreciate you for who you are. You _are_ creative, you _are_ intelligent, you're just about the most creative and intelligent little 8-year-old I have ever met!"

Mac was still unsure of himself, "I doubt it…"

"Listen, do you wanna know where my parents are," Frankie asked.

"Sure... Where…?"

"They're in Heaven."

Mac's eyes slightly widened. "Whoa," he whispered.

Frankie then sat on the couch next to the depressed brown-haired child and too him into her arms. "Mac, I love you. You are officially a member of the Foster's clan. You are the little brother that I never had but always wanted."

Mac's soul was calmed by the turning of the tables, but it still was not enough to eliminate his depression. No, there was still something that needed to be done. He was about to take another step towards that something that he did not know he stepping towards. Was this truly maturity, or was it something greater?

"Thank you, Frankie… I love you, too," Mac let out. We wished that he could happier by this sudden moment of bonding, but said depression still had a strong grip on him. This was something that he desperately needed to shake off. "I've come to a decision…"

"What's that," asked Frankie.

"I'm going to tell my mother about this place... I don't care if it lands me in trouble, but I need to show her this place and I need to tell her what's what… I'm going to take charge for once and tell her that she needs to grow up…"

Frankie was skeptical, "Are you sure?"

"This has to be done," Mac insisted, "otherwise the next time something like this happens, it really will be the end for me…"

Frankie thought for a moment and then nodded. She had his back before and he was going to have it again. He was going to stand by his side and hopefully find a way to get his mother to come to her senses. "We've got your back, pal."

Mac checked his watch, "It's getting awfully late... Will you please drive me to…my current home…?" Just in case everything went south, Frankie would have a plan with Madame Foster and Mr. Herriman about what to do. Well, there he goes, an autistic, diabetic, 8-year-old was about to tell the truth. He was about tell his mother that he had been sneaking off to an orphanage for imaginary friends behind her back. Whatever would happen he was determined to face it head on, for his friends and his true family.

Mac's life was about to change, but whether it would be for better or worse would be anyone's guess.

"Come one, pal," Frankie ushered.

"One more thing," Mac spoke up.

"What's that?"

"I have a birthday coming and I don't want any parties. The last several parties I had were total travesties... Please respect that..."

"Okay."


End file.
